Rooty Call
by Accidentally The Whole Fanfic
Summary: On his way to the Echo Town mines one afternoon, set on getting a glorious gift for the woman of his dreams, Henry Turner is reluctantly sidetracked by an enigmatic voice with a PARTICULARLY indecent proposal. Rated M for "Man, You Seriously Need Help." Entry for the 12 Days of Christmas Prompt. Day 1: Gifts. Merry Christmas! Ahahahaha...


**Author's Notes:** My first, but possibly not last, entry for the 12 Days of Christmas Prompt, hosted at The Village Square by Emo Cowboy and therainydaykids! For day 1 - CRAZMUS - the theme is **Gifts**. Sometimes the best gifts are those we never went looking for, don't you agree?

Rooty Call

* * *

When the first blanket of fresh, late-November snow shushed the flora and fauna of Echo Town into a white slumber, Henry Turner knew it was time to make his move.

To him, it was a mere technicality that Echo Town did, in fact, have soil suited for planting winter crops, and the seeds to start off. For Henry, winter was just a way to toss away a big chunk of his annual schedule and actually get the shit done that he _wanted_ to get done: A quick whirlwind tour of his barn and coops to tend to its lazy, freeloading denizens; maybe an afternoon passed out on the couch after watching various forms of crime drama re-runs; and the complete absence of any other pressing responsibilities - barring a periodic social call.

It was also the season for romance, as he was constantly reminded: Seeing Felicity Ross and Rod Barnes crunch through the snow hand-in-hand, pink-cheeked and giggling before they suddenly flopped down to carve out lopsided angels without a care; passing by Iroha Suzuki, face flushed from her forge, leaning out of her kitchen window and smiling shyly as she made dinner plans with a smitten Sanjay Narang, who was standing right outside with a bouquet of her favorite flowers; listening to the Marlowes at the travel agency coo such sweet words to each other that it made everyone within a 10-mile radius vomit sugar plums and molasses in the impending wake of Christmas. Not to mention their treacly kewpie doll of a daughter, constantly chirping her excitement to see "Sandie Cwaus an' da wayne-dee-uh" to anyone who would listen.

Everyone knew damn well that she hadn't had that syrupy speech impediment before, especially not at seven years old. Not until she'd learned that Hana Tsukino found those sorts of things precious, and preciousness got her candy.

Yes, with the amorous onset of winter, Henry knew the time was right to carve out his own path in the age-old art of wooing his lady-love. It was with this goal in mind that he headed into Echo Forest one sunny Tuesday, hammer slung over his shoulder. The mines would be nice and cozy, his hard work sweating away the frosty chill that nipped at his face.

 _We'll see who's out of whose league after this,_ he thought smugly, a chapped smirk stretching his thin lips. His gift was sure to knock her socks off. And hopefully her bra.

Humming a holiday melody that a few of the townsfolk had been drunkenly warbling together the other day - _Wassail, wassail, all over the town!_ \- his boots clomped through the crunchy snow when the husky voice first caught his attention:

" _Yowza_. Look at the ass on you..."

One foot suspended in the air for his next step, Henry halted in place, eyes narrowing and face growing warm as he looked around. As far as he could tell, nobody else was in the forest at this time... at least, not on the lower levels. Still, whoever he'd heard had sounded close by, and certainly not at all familiar to him...

"Hello?" he muttered, spinning around on one foot and planting the other back on frozen ground, hoping the source of the perverted voice would respond. As vain as he felt for immediately assuming the remark was addressed to him, he had to admit - his ass _was_ pretty fantastic. Even Dunhill made unnerving remarks about it from time-to-time, comparing it favorably to his father's.

"Over here, honeybuns," the voice cooed, making Henry recoil slightly. "Don't be shy, now. I won't hurt you."

Grip on his hammer tightening slightly, Henry crept toward the voice - neither distinctly male nor female in tone or timbre, it seemed to be floating from behind one of the massive oak trees that sat in the middle of the forest, dying leaves snuggled under thick piles of snow. Craning his neck about, he scowled, stepping carefully over the gigantic roots that snaked out and slipped beneath the earth as he kept his eyes sharp for the location of his... admirer?

"So, what's your name, handsome?" the tree purred, making Henry scream and jump about a mile in the air.

" _What the fuck?!"_ he hissed out, accusing finger jabbed toward his overlarge offender. " _You... HOW-?!"_

"Hey, it's alright," it murmured soothingly, sounding... sounding _stung?_

 _I know damn well I'm not even drunk yet,_ Henry reassured himself, blinking hard, and readying his hammer to strike at any moment, if needed. "What's going on here?" he spat through gritted teeth, snorting puffs of white air into the clearing.

After a beat, the tree spoke again - Henry had to consciously remind himself that, yes, the tree did indeed appear to be _talking_ with no visible goddamn mouth: "Ac~tually, I've been waiting for someone like you to pass by today... sorry if I came on a little strong, but I need you to... help me, you see." Despite its apology, the tree still sounded as though the essence of lust pulsed wholly throughout its being. Henry hoped the roots didn't tear through the ground and into his glorious-

No, it was best not to think about _those_ sorts of things. He wasn't in Japan, after all. "What sort of help?" he asked cautiously, edging closer to this strange conversation partner, but remaining ready to attack or bolt at a moment's notice. Truth be told, he'd probably run like hell. "I don't have my ax on me-"

"NO!" The sudden shift to a frightened yelp was enough to make Henry stumble back, landing flat on his fantastic ass in the snowdrift. "Look, I-I'm not that kind of tree, okay?! I... _no!_ Creep!"

Feeling a bit offended that the tree that had sexually harassed him was now calling _him_ a creep, Henry stumbled back to his boot-clad feet, teeth chattering as he brushed snow off the back of his now-damp pants. "Okay! Okay, geez... sorry! What do you need?" he snapped, snatching the hammer up once more. "I don't climb, so don't even ask me to do that."

The tree was quick to assure him: "Oh, no-no-no, sweetie. Nothing of the sort. You see, I just have something stuck up in my branches, and-"

"Don't. _C_ _limb_ ," Henry repeated loudly, rolling his eyes. Of course - why would he expect a fucking _tree_ to actually listen? It. Was. A. Tree.

 _Why does that sound kind of racist?_ he wondered briefly, before pushing the thought away. Not important right now.

"I don't _need_ you to climb up there to get it out, handsome. That nice, big hammer of yours will hit the spot just right, I think..."

Henry's eyes nervously flicked down to the massive, red-hued hammer clutched in his mittened hands, and back to the bizarrely flirtatious oak tree requesting his... services.

"I've got goodies for you if you do," the tree wheedled, adopting what must have been some sort of pout to its voice. "Really _nice_ ones... they're stuck up there, too."

Blinking slowly, Henry gulped. Well, maybe he wouldn't have to head to the mines for his gift... that would save him a little trouble, right? "Wh-how do I know I can... trust you?"

"Mmm... you're quite the romantic, huh? Want me to buy you dinner first?"

 _Smartass._

"I can't, you know."

"Because I'm a tree," they finished together, Henry's voice annoyed and droning. "Yeah, yeah..."

"Ooh, we're finishing each others' sentences already~!" the tree giggled, though Henry was relieved to see that it didn't shake with the laughter. "Look, I can't hurt you at all, promise... not that I'd want to. I've just liked watching you pass by ever since you moved here."

 _Oh, god._

"And now, senpai's noticed me~"

"Okay, _okay!_ " Henry interjected, his voice cracking. He _wasn't_ in Japan, was he? "Just - let's just get this over with, okay? I'll hit you." He certainly _wanted_ to at this point. "So... so, what, just strike the trunk or something?"

"Ah-ah-ah! Move just a scootch to the left... there you go, big boy!" If it could've clapped in delight, it probably would've. "You see that lovely, bald patch between my roots, right there? My little white spot...?"

Revolted, Henry nodded, eyeing the stripped section of tree nestled between the two long, slender, outstretched roots. With some relief, he noted that at least there was no sap oozing from the area. He was close enough to puking as it was. "There?"

"There," the tree confirmed, voice getting husky. "You ready?"

Wanting to just get the whole thing over with so he could go and get Rebecca an impressive gift from the mines, Henry nodded again, letting out a disgusted sigh. Why couldn't she just be happy with receiving piles of animal shit, like that crazy druid lady who resided in the whacked-out pointy house? If he'd wanted to romance a high-maintenance pain in the ass, he would've settled on Michelle Weinrecht, who probably would've had him knifed at the first convenient opportunity anyway, once his usefulness was outstripped by, say, that prince from Not India. Then he wouldn't have had to venture out here, getting roped into... into _this._

Cheeks burning, he heaved the hammer up with a soft grunt, and struck-

The tree moaned, and an ice-glazed walnut rustled out of its branches. It plopped onto the ground by a horrified and disgusted Henry, whose messy chestnut mop was now sprinkled with a sugary film of loose snow.

Wide brown eyes darting back-and-forth between the nut and the tree, Henry sputtered, wondering if he'd been hearing things. "D-did you just-"

"Keep going," the tree urged. "Please..."

"Ew, _no!"_

"Just - just this once... just keep hitting... won't it feel good to hit me?"

Hating himself, Henry squeezed his eyes shut and swung - again, and again, hitting harder and harder each time, trying to drown out the tree's increasingly loud and theatrical moans. As he continued his assault, more trinkets littered the ground in brief showers of frost that had broken off of the branches from the repeated impacts: Brightly-colored puffs of feathery down that were dusted with snow, strange old coins, rocks, dead branches... Henry wasn't sure where in the world all that crap had even come from, but he didn't _want_ to know.

A thunderous rumbling knocked Henry back onto his award-winning butt again, his terrified yelps drowned out beneath an earth-shaking groan, climaxing in a blinding flash of white that rivaled even the powdery mounds of diamond dust gleaming in the winter sun. When the light faded, the snow-encrusted Henry was surrounded by insultingly crappy trinkets of appreciation, utterly traumatized as the tree... the tree breathed hard, panting, because of course the tree was _breathing._ Henry didn't want to question it anymore. He just wanted to go home and get hamme-

 _DRUNK,_ he thought in a flash of disgusted panic. His hammer lay nearby, and he shot it a horrified look. It looked harmless, normal, clean, but...

But he _knew_.

A confused squirrel scampered down the trunk of the tree, chattering angrily at Henry before disappearing into the frozen underbrush with a glassy rustle.

"Oh, _thank_ you," the tree groaned, humming happily. "That little beast was so itchy... but it just wouldn't - oh, excuse me - _leave_. Ahahahaha!"

Working his mouth in soundless shock, Henry clambered onto his legs, reduced to wobbling jelly, arms spread out in disbelief. His normally-pale face was turning a mottled red with anger, humiliation, and frostbite. "I... fucking... _jerked you off_ _ **to evict a SQUIRREL**_ _?_ _!"_ he screamed, the high-pitched sound echoing throughout the chilly forest. Gesturing all around him, he stomped around in a circle. "AND FOR _THIS?!_ _What the hell am I supposed to do with this crap?!_ "

"Sell it?" the tree suggested offhandedly, sounding utterly disinterested now that its needs had been fulfilled. "Build something? Make clothes? Woo that gypsy chick? You're welcome, by the way, you ungrateful prick."

Feeling used and livid, Henry grabbed one of the fallen rocks and hurled it at the tree with a wordless roar, bouncing off of its trunk with a loud _whap_!

"Hey, fuck you too, buddy!" the tree snapped. "Look, if you're gonna be like that - whatever, just leave! No fucking pun intended this time! I sure won't call _you_ next time I need an itch scratched... god, you try to do something nice for someone around Christmas time... oh, yeah, there you go! Just scoop it all up! Enjoy the gifts, asshole!" it added, sounding even more annoyed as Henry tried to surreptitiously gather a few tufts of colored down and some of the rarer coins.

"Just... just shut up," Henry mumbled, stuffing a rock in his pocket - perhaps he could crack his head open on it later - and grabbing his hammer. Storming off in a huff, he made his way for the mines, trying to squeeze the whole incident out of his mind. He needed to focus on Rebecca. Strong, beautiful, talented Rebecca, with hooters the size of his head. She loved nice, shiny rocks for crafting material... he'd grab some orichalcum or mithril and take the long way back out, then just swing by her place and watch her tear her top off with grateful delight, forget this all ever happened as they spontaneously and passionately conceived a half-brother for Toni...

"Fuck's sake..."

Head snapping up, Henry spotted Neil Carver emerging from the mines, arms crossed over the front of his poofy red parka. Whether he was truly scowling, or if it was just his usual case of resting bitch face, Henry wasn't quite sure - nor did he care.

"Why the hell do I have to see _you_ tromping about in the forest at this hour?" Neil grumbled sourly, ruffling his tousled shock of blonde hair in irritation as he passed the affronted and traumatized Henry. "God... people just go wherever the fuck they want to nowadays, I guess..."

Feeling the last shred of his patience and sanity snap like a brittle ice chip after the horrible tree-wanking incident, Henry whirled about in the entrance to the mines. The large rock he'd stored in his pocket made a sickening crack against the back of Neil's head before the bitchy animal dealer could even register that Henry had turned around, and he collapsed face-down in the snow, bleeding heavily.

As Henry retreated into the mines to dig for Rebecca's gift, he noted that he was feeling much better already.

* * *

 **Author's Notes Redux:** I'm pretty sure I just got myself exiled from the fandom with this - I just can't give poor Henry a break. Don't tell me those gift-giving trees didn't seem suspicious to anyone else, though. WELL, I BET THEY WILL NOW, WON'T THEY?! AHAHAHAHA!

Feel free to leave a review or a death threat or whatever else, if you'd like. Merry Christmas~


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